


bad flirting

by madridog (FakeCirilla9)



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Awkward Flirting, Comedy, Crack, F/F, M/M, Open Relationships, Srlsly this fic is built on inaccuracies, beware of inaccuracies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:33:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25579636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FakeCirilla9/pseuds/madridog
Summary: A (bit too long) cracky comedy about not so impossible romances
Relationships: Pilar Rubio/Vanja Bosnić, Sergio Ramos/Luka Modrić
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	bad flirting

**Author's Note:**

> This work is inspired by many awesome things. Mostly by:  
> [this great fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3364994),  
> a fic from ficbook,  
> a comedic telenovela.
> 
> The draft for this story was written quite long ago so the action takes place months back

Luka often embraced him. And Sergio loved those moments: when Luka threw himself at him, literally jumping into his arms, entangling him with legs and hands alike, and kissing on the cheek or neck or, most preferably, on the lips.

The problem was these moments were limited to special occasions: when they scored a goal together, when Real won a match, when they celebrated at Cibeles… It was always a moment, in which endorphins run high, when the exhilaration and joy from the win prevailed over the social conduct.

When Sergio initiated touches outside of these situations, Luka went along with it; never avoided a greeting kiss, never leaned out of a hug. He never initiated the contact himself though.

And it was never sexual. Sergio wanted it to become sexual.

He would make it sexual if needed. He was a man of action. Only he had no idea how to go about it.

It was a lucky coincidence on one of the sofas in the house he spotted Cosmopolitan. It may be just what he’s been looking for.

***

Some time later Pilar walked into the room.

“Have you seen my-” she started upon the unusual sight of Sergio with a book. Then she registered the cover. “Are you really reading this?”

“Why such a tone? It’s yours after all.”

“It’s my cosmetician’s, she forgot and I wanted to return it to her… never mind. I see you’re engrossed in it.”

Sergio hummed something in response and she left him to his perusal.

***

One of the headlines of the article about picking up a boy proclaimed:

 **Make an off-hand comment that forces him to ask follow-up questions,** for example: “have you known that a giraffe can touch her ear with her tongue?”.

Luka stood dumbstruck for half a minute when Sergio posed that question at him.

“A giraffe?”

“Long neck, spotted colour.”

“So I thought, I just wasn’t sure I understand Spanish for a moment… Sergio, how hard that ball hit you in the head the other day during the training?”

“What-”

“Were you to the doctor?”

These weren’t follow-up questions Luka was supposed to be asking, thought Sergio.

“No, why would I…”

Luka was in his face, tiptoeing to look into his eyes.

“I think your pupils are dilated. You really should consult med staff, it could be a concussion.”

*** 

Okay, that one came out pretty awkward. Next day Sergio was wiser. He tried out another advice from the list.

**Compliment his shirt.**

“Hey, Luka, nice shirt,” Sergio said upon entering the changing room, winking at the smaller guy.

Some people around snickered, some looked at their captain wide-eyed. Luka glanced at his Real kit, perfectly identical as any other man’s in the room.

“Uh, thanks? The gold stripes are remarkable, but a bit too flashy? I can see how they’re to your taste, though.”

“You suggested the new design and are fishing for a compliment?” Isco laughed from the other bench, insolent brat.

He had a point though. Maybe complimenting shirt wasn’t that original, when they were in the room full of same-clothed guys…

***

 **Leave out the boring small talk. Instead start with something attention-catching,** like: “So what’s the worst thing you’ve done in your life?”

Sergio asked it in a low, sexy in his design, voice, this time choosing wisely the moment there were just the two of them.

“Why?” at this point, Luka went edgy, whenever Sergio approached, after several days of weirdest nagging from his captain’s side. Then it dawned on him Sergio was coming from a board meeting.

“Oh shit, does Perez want to kick me out?”

“What? No! Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Then why are you asking such stupid questions?!”

“Uh, to get to know you better?”

“Fine. Worst deed – obviously – starting a friendship with you.”

“Oh,” Sergio pouted. He drew away, hurt.

“Wait. Sergio. Seergiooo, that was a joke, come on!”

***

At home, Sergio hurled the magazine at the wall. What a stupid, useless thing.

Pilar peered into the room, alarmed.

“Done reading?” she asked, picking up the damned thing.

“It isn’t working,” complained Sergio.

Pilar glanced at the site the publication was automatically opening at, due to frequent use.

“Maybe because it’s too general. You know, not personalized.”

“Huh?”

“Maybe you should do something that person likes.”

“What person?”

“I don’t know, the one you’re pining for.”

“Hmph,” Sergio muttered, already interested in the idea. A piece of advice from a friend would perhaps work better than this stupid article. So he needed a mutual acquaintance. Preferably someone that shared his views on the world; someone equally hot as him. And who knew Luka well.

***

Sergio considered his choices carefully before deciding on Cris. Prick that he was, he was still better than Geri – at least he wouldn’t post about it later on his Twitter. The thought of social media made him review his decision on unfollowing Cris on Instagram. Well, one more click won't make such a difference. Not like his one vote will increase Cris advantage over Miley Cyrus on the top of the list that much.

Okay, done. He can always unfollow him later on. Thus prepared, he grabbed his phone and choose the long-unused number.

“Hi, Cristiano, amigo, what’s up?” Sergio asked cheerfully the moment the call was answered.

“Are we still talking?” Sergio could almost picture Ronaldo’s expression right now, with raising (perfectly depilated) eyebrows and all.

“Of course we’re talking!”

Sergio’s tone conveyed probably too much enthusiasm, for Cris didn’t sound convinced.

“Okaay, this is getting weird.”

Sergio was _almost_ hurt by his words, but well, the traitor had left Real Madrid, what did he expect from its captain, that Sergio would thank him for robbing his beloved club off the most frequent goals scorer? Hell, no.

But this conversation was supposed to be about a different matter, Sergio reminded himself. He couldn’t be too direct, though.

“Does Mandžukić like to hug?” He blurted out.

“…what?”

“You heard me.”

“Sergio, what kind of question is this-”

“Just answer it.”

“Uh, I don’t know? He hugs me after I score but so does everyone.”

“This is not helping. Even Gareth hugged you.”

“What was that, Sergio, did you just admit I’m so sexy I make straight guys gays?”

“That. Can you do that? Can you tell me how?”

“Yh, what this conversation is really about? If you belatedly discovered you’re in love me after I left-”

“Don’t be so full of yourself. Of course not you.”

“Who then?” curiosity entered Cris’ tone.

“It-it doesn’t matter, okay.”

“Sergio. It’d be easier if… Modrić! Of course, that’s why you ask about the only Croat in my team… What the fuck, Sergio, that’s not a national feature whether they like to hug or not. Look at me and look at Pepe – and we’re from the same country.”

“Huh, okay, that’s a good point.”

There was momentary silence on Cris’ part, then:

“Have you talked to him?”

“No.”

“Then maybe you should-”

“No! He’s got a wife and children. What if he never speaks to me again if I do that?”

“Well, how else do you want to find out if you have a chance?”

“That’s what I’m asking you. What do I do?”

Cris sighed in a way that sounded very much like a muffled swear in Italian.

“I don’t know, ask him on a date?”

***

So Sergio invited Luka over to a restaurant.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Sergio asked after a Friday training.

“Enjoying the weekend’s rest.”

“Would you like to enjoy it together?”

“Sure, why not. Another match of tennis?”

“I was thinking of a dinner.”

“Yeah, cool.”

“Really?” Sergio brightened. “I found this place, they have not that bad wine and there are always VIP tables for pairs available.”

Sergio was so overjoyed Luka accepted and so proud of his own scheming skills, that he didn’t realize how Luka’s face changed as he spoke.

“For pairs?” Luka interrupted.

“Yeah,” Sergio nodded enthusiastically, as Luka didn’t punch him yet, didn’t even look disgusted, maybe just a bit surprised.

“Oh, okay. I’ll bring Vanya then. I think she can manage at the weekend. See you and Pilar tomorrow, bye.”

***

It was a catastrophe. Total, utter catastrophe. Sergio’s dreamed date with Luka turned into a double date and not only he didn’t have Lukita all for himself but was forced to watch, for the whole evening, how he and Vanya clung to each other.

Perhaps calling their behaviour clingy was a bit of an exaggeration They didn’t – luckily! – hold each other’s hand the whole time or even sit too close. But the chief portion of Luka’s attention was arrested by Vanya, whether she liked the food, what drink she preferred, did she maybe wanted some dessert? Before the sun was fully set Sergio was sick of their love gazes and little finger brushes whenever they passed something to each other which came so naturally to them.

Immersed in his stormy thoughts, he didn’t notice Pilar casting him sidelong glances, first curious, then knowing, and smiling to herself.

***

“I know your secret, mi amor,” Pilar said casually, as they were walking back home, taking the advantage of the late-night time when Madrid streets were almost empty of fans.

“Huh?”

“You want him.”

“Who?”

Pilar rolled her eyes.

“Lukita! The one you’ve been making heart eyes at all evening, I know that look from bedroom well enough.” Or from the kitchen, when Sergio was hungry and eyeing a plate full of food, but that was a less romantic and slightly creepy comparison, so Pilar went with the former.

Sergio stopped walking, startled.

“Oh, come on,” Pilar tugged him along. “I can’t say I understand, he’s not really my type… I like there more brawn, but perhaps there is more too him than meets the eyes.”

“There is much more to him! You saw him on the pitch. He plays like there were two men instead of one, two times faster, more agile than any of us. Have you seen the times when he chases after a ball, running faster than it rolls, turning it back on the pitch with a slide…”

Pilar smiled.

“See? You want him.”

“All right, I want him. But he’s so hetero.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say so.”

“Have you seen him during dinner? Maybe not cuddling with each other, but it’s all in their eyes. They understand each other without words.”

“So do you.”

Sergio frowned.

“I mean,” Pilar clarified, “on the pitch. When you two play together, you don’t need words, not even signs. You look at each other and know where the other would pass.”

The dreamy expression entered Sergio’s face.

“Yeah, that’s all true, but what good it is when it’s only on the pitch?”

“Well, you could start on the pitch then. Training just the two of you. Or just with a ball somewhere else, not necessarily Bernabeu… our backyard?”

“Our backyard,” Sergio repeated thoughtfully. “And what of the kids?”

“We’ll send them over to Rene. Or Miriam. Or Alberto…”

“No Alberto.”

“He just seems so irresponsible! He could take them to Disneyland or something. They would all have a great time.”

“Goth dress party rather.”

“Oh, don’t you start. Not everyone needs to have so many colours as you do in your wardrobe. But we’re straying from the topic. The kids are to be sent over. And I’ll take care of Vanya.”

Sergio eyed the mischievous smile that curled Pilar’s lips.

“Not your type?” he teased.

Pilar swapped his shoulder.

“I said _he_ was not my type. She’s… quite something.”

“Yep, definitely quiet. She’s spoken scarcely ten words during dinner.”

“Because we talked in Spanish! Try speaking in Croatian.”

“You can’t speak Croatian either.”

“Oh, but talking won’t be most important.”

***

So the next day they repeated the “double date” during which Pilar managed to convince Vanya to visit SPA with her the same evening yet. Even if Vanya was surprised, she didn’t let that show. She pretended to believe the lame excuse of having tickets expiring and Sergio unable to go because of an injury. She measured Luka with a searching gaze yet but her husband seemed equally in the dark as she was. And so they ended the dinner in reshuffled pairs.

***

Their unexpected ladies night got better when Pilar proposed they talk in English.

“I’d very much prefer that, yes.” Using the easier foreign tongue, Vanya instantly felt more confident.

Once they entered the facility, Pilar headed to the sauna. Vanya hesitated.

“What is it?” asked Pilar.

“I'm not prepared. I don't have a swimming suit with me.”

“Don't worry about that. You go in there naked.”

Vanya’s eyes grew bigger at that but ok, she won't chicken out when some Spanish girl does not. She couldn’t help stealing appraising glances at the other’s body in the changing room. How could an adult woman, a mother of three children, have a figure of a teenage girl? It made uncomfortably conscious about her own, perhaps too curly shapes. But the light was dimmed and Pilar looked her in the eye, didn’t seem to judge. On the contrary, Vanya may call her gazes admiring but that might be the wine speaking.

Followed by quite a few stares from other guests, they made their way to the cabin together, wrapped only in towels.

“They look at us a bit strangely,” noted Vanya.

“Because usually, you walk in alone.”

***

Meanwhile, at Sergio Ramos and Pilar Rubio’s house, and more specifically, in their backyard on the provisional pitch on which most of the days Sergio Jr. and Marco practised with their father or exercised with their mother, the two Real Madrid players were engaged in honing their football skills.

The evening was hot and the air stifling. The gathering clouds forecasted a coming storm. Sergio took off his shirt.

Luka didn't even ask what he's doing, more used to seeing his friend half-naked (90% naked if he were to take into account the percentage of the skin visible) than clothed. For all his love for fashion Ramos mostly wore boxers and Nike shoes.

“Aren’t you warm? You could take off the shirt as well.”

“No, thanks, I’m fine. Are we practising these penalties or not because I'd really prefer to proceed to a drink already.”

“Wow, Luka, there was wine at the dinner.”

Luka simply grunted something incomprehensible in response and resumed the play.

Pilar’s plan was not working, thought Sergio, as the ball passed between his legs right into the goal.

“Heh, good you’re not our goalkeeper.”

“Goalkeepers have gloves.”

Completely not working.

***

The ladies did a lot better job at bonding together, leaned closer and closer to each other, engrossed in a conversation.

“It's so quiet when they are away,” commented Vanya in a dreamy voice, relaxed in the steamy room.

“Not talking themselves,” agreed Pilar. “But most of all there are no squeaks of fangirls that could be my daughters judging by their age.”

“And when he's stopping for autographs! Like we're finally ready to go but no, he needs to sign himself everywhere.”

“Oh, that's the worst! Every time they take out the cameras, at least the following half an hour is wasted.”

“And you can't go anywhere because they instantly single you out.”

“Exactly. And even if you go out, you can’t chill out. You want get wasted, you can't do it in public for you will find Google full of your drunk person the next day.”

“And the rumors of cheating! I think I'd divorce Luka many times if I believed half of them.”

That made Pilar's broad smile waver. She covered it quickly but not quickly enough for Vanya’s eyes.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Does he... of course it’s not my business, what was I thinking-”

“Let’s go for a refreshment, shall we? Maybe order a drink, taking advantage of the fact none of us is pregnant at the moment.”

***

Sergio got a brilliant idea to move from penalties to dribbling as it provided more possible contact between players - between them. The tricky thing was Luka was good at it, better than most of the opponents Sergio faced on the pitch, and so even their feet rarely brushed.

***

The evening was turning late and soon they were the only customers left at the relaxation club. Champagne won with the notion of continuing steam bath or trying any other beauty treatment and they were at the stage of chuckling too often with too little reason behind it. Language barrier lowered significantly. Thrown in Spanish or Croatian words became universally understandable as tongues run free.

“So about the betrayal thing,” Pilar started.

“Oh, I'm sorry I mentioned that. You don't have to tell me. I shouldn't-”

Pilar's finger on her lips silenced her. Vanya stopped talking mostly from the shock at the brief touch that felt strangely intimate than at the gesture itself. What had just happened?

“What is your opinion about open relationships?” Pilar asked.

“Er- Uhm, cheating...?” stumbled Vanya.

“Yees. But not betrayal because it's consensual, both parties agree.”

“Are you and Sergio...”

Pilar leaned in closer. Her hand was still on Vanya's face.

“May I kiss you?”

The Croat was too shocked to respond. Nor did she resisted the kiss as Pilar took her silence for a consent. Actually, as the champagne buzzed in her head, she was starting to like it. She had never kiss a girl before but it was a pleasant experience. Very pleasant. Pilar’s lips were softer and fuller than her husband’s. Her skin was smoother.

Hands more alike her own touched her body. Luka may not be the biggest man but he was still built as a man. It all felt completely different with Pilar.

Vanya had never before felt that kind of intimacy. It was nearly as the mirror of her own caresses directed at her husband, as if she could see how it was from the other side of a relationship.

Pilar broke up the kiss and moved slowly back, never breaking eye contact with Vanya. Her eyes were blue… Their younger children had her eyes. Fuck, what on earth was she doing? The woman sitting opposite to her was a mother and a- well, maybe not a wife yet but the labels hardly mattered. She was in a permanent relationship, worse, she had her own family.

Vanya herself had a husband and children with him and- she didn’t even took off the wedding ring.

What the fuck was she doing?

What would Luka think of her, how could she even look into his eyes?

“No, I can’t.”

She made to stand up but Pilar stopped her.

“But what happened? Calm down. Everything’s okay, amor, come here. It was quite nice, wasn’t it?”

“If you’re doing it to take revenge for your husband’s infidelity-”

“I’m doing this because I like you.”

“I have a husband.”

“I know. He won’t have anything against it.”

That left Vanya stupefied for a moment.

“What do you mea- Oh my God, they went whoring, didn’t they? And here I’m starting the topic of marital infidelity while you knew all along that they are now… Damn, I shouldn’t have let him go!"

“They didn’t go to a brothel if that will placate you. Not even to a night club. They’re at our place.”

“What? How…? I don’t understand.”

Pilar shuffled closer, stroke Vanya’s arm soothingly.

“Well, I’m a bit guilty here. Actually, it was all my idea because Sese, although he wanted to, didn’t know how to go about it.”

“What are you talking about?”

“To put it simply, I will take care of you while Sergio is taking care of your husband.”

“How taking ca-” she put her hand to her mouth, struck with realization. “Oh my God. They aren't.”

“They very much are. But I'd say let's not waste any more time on them. They steal too much spotlight as it is anyway. Let's focus on ourselves, leave boys to their play.”

Pilar stared at her daringly. There was a challenge in those heaven-like eyes when she reached out with her hand, pulling at the knot at Vanya’s towel. She proceeded slowly so Vanya had a lot of time to protest. She didn’t. Not when the fabric fell down to her waist, not even when one of Pilar’s hand slid up to cup her breast.

“You're beautiful,” Pilar breathed in Spanish and oh Hell, thought Vanya, returning her advances. She could have her fun once in a while too.

***

When Pilar and Vanya were already making out, it started to rain in Madrid. The sudden downpour made the pitch slippery and caused the clothes (Luka's clothes as Sergio hardly had a thing put on) to cling to the players’ bodies. And during his next dummy Sergio’s feet went too far and he's lying on the ground, Luka caught in the way of his legs.

“Sorry, I hadn't plan that.”

“Knowing your style of game it's hard to believe.”

Luka was out of breath and wet and seemed so small trapped beneath him. It was only his physical size, though. Sergio knew what the little Croat was capable of. There was no doubt he could have wriggled himself free if he tried.

But he didn't. Maybe he liked the situation too.

Maybe that was some Croatian way of flirting too subtle for Sergio to pick up most of the times but if Luka didn't escape, he certainly felt content with the position, right?

Luka’s (comparatively) long hair plastered to his forehead, some were getting into his eyes. Sergio brushed them out.

“What are you doing?” asked Luka levelly. He did not move to withdraw even now.

“Can you even see anything with these bangs?”

“Oh, I'm sorry I didn't know a formal dinner will end in another training session and didn't bring my headband.”

Sergio still arranged his hair and it got closer to stroking.

“Ekhm, what are you doing? Could you maybe stop?”

“Why? Is it not nice?”

“Not really. I don't like when someone plays with my hair.”

Sergio took away his hand and sat up abruptly. Ignoring the heavy rain, Luka sighted and followed him. Really, sometimes Sergio was so touchy it was like dealing with Ronaldo.

“What?” inquired Luka.

Sergio glanced at him askance.

“You let Vanya touch your hair.”

Luka laughed, he actually burst out laughing, because what the fuck-

But Sergio didn't look amused.

“Oh my God, you're serious. So what is it? Some hair kink? You miss the times when you had longer hair yourself?”

“It's not hair. It's more like… Luka Modrić kink?”

“Ehehe... What-”

“You're so sexy, you know.

“Like-“

“Like I want to kiss you, hug you, make love to you.”

“Oh… wow,” was all that Luka managed in response.

“You don't want me,” Sergio sulked.

“I haven't said that.”

“So you do want me?” now Sergio was beaming.

“I haven't said that either.”

Sergio stared at him expectant.

“Could you give me some time to proceed that maybe?”

Sergio, unable to stay immobile for as long as entire minutes, played with his shoelaces, pulling and tugging at the wet tong.

“Only we don't have that much time,” he said.

“What?” Luka frowned.

“I mean,” Sergio let go of his boot and waved his hands, “Pilar is with Vanya now and kids are at family but how long ladies night may last and relatives have their own lives, right? And then there are matches again and of course we see each other every day but it's training ground and changing room or showers and all guys around and I'm their captain so I can't ignore them more than I already do in favour of paying special attention to you.”

“Oh my God, Sergio, slow down, please. Spanish wine does not help in understanding Spanish. Are you saying you treat me special? That this night is all a scheme to... what?”

“Can I just show you?”

Sergio kissed him briefly, lightly and straight on the lips.

“How about that? Clear enough?” He stared hopefully at Luka.

For a moment, Luka was stunned into inaction. Then he thought, what the Hell, why not. He pulled Sergio closer by his shoulders. The captain of Real Madrid went easily with it as he never resisted anyone who wanted to hug him, least of all Lukita.

***

In the morning it wasn’t light of the day that woke him up, nor the sound of an alarm clock. He was half-aware of the sound of car driving up to the house, of the click of opened doors somewhere downstairs, of high-heels on the tiles. He heard girls giggling as if he was back at high school times. His half asleep mind didn’t really pull any of it together at first. Realization came to him slowly but when it did, Luka jerked awake at once.

He cast a wild look around the room. He's naked, not in his house, rumbled sheets tangled between him and oh, God - that's his captain next to him, equally naked.

There was a knock at the door.

Sergio grunted and turned away from the noise, pulling a pillow over his head.

Oh dear, what's he supposed to do? Hide in the wardrobe? But it was too late. The door handle moved and Pilar’s head peered into the room.

Luka drew the covers to his crotch. He cough something but the noise couldn’t really pass for words. He was not blushing, he's not blushing. It was hard to look at Pilar.

“Hello, lovebirds,” and wow, she didn’t sound that angry… she didn't sound angry at all, what the Hell- “I wouldn't wake you up so early but Vanya insists you need to go back home.”

***

Luka tiptoed to the saloon in Ramos’ shirt because he's clothes were still wet after the rain and he's wearing something ridiculously colorful and oversized.

“Oh my God,” whispered Pilar in a tone of voice that's hard to place.

Vanya got some attack and for a moment Luka thought she's crying until he realized she's giggling wildly in a fit of joy.

***

Sitting in the taxi driving them home, Luka felt uncomfortable. Vanya clearly did not and that was confusing him further.

“So you have got nothing to say?” he asked eventually, feeling like that's not he's role.

“Only if you have something to say to me,” there was a mischievous glint in Vanya’s eyes.

“So you are not angry that I uh- cheated on you?”

“No,” she smiled. “Also, I wouldn't call it cheating, not really. After tonight I'd call it a try of an open relationship.”

“Oh. So you and Pilar… um…”

“Yes.

“Oh.” His vocabulary limited to the word it seemed. He needed to add something, “How was it?”

“Strange at the beginning, exotic even but life is to try new things, right? Then it was all tender and soft but not in a bad way, not boring. Pilar's quite adventurous- what?”

“You sound like you are in love.”

“Are you jealous? You silly, I love only you,” Vanya intertwined their hands that were wearing wedding rings. “So, how was your night?”

“Uh, wet?”

“Wet?” she frowned.

“Because it rained.”

“And you didn't get the idea to move into the house?”

“We did. But the clothes were soaked through and um, then there was ...their bed was warm and dry.”

“And Sergio’s body hot,” provided Vanya.

“He always is,” Luka said dreamily.

“Now who sounds in love?”

**Author's Note:**

> The idea was born partly out of a frustration of leaving all the awesome women off the fanfiction world


End file.
